


His Angel

by Athena_Midnight



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Absent Characters, Adorable Michael, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Neglect, Child to Adult, Childhood Memories, Cutesy, Developing Friendships, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Father-Daughter Relationship, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Funny Michael, Gen, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Loneliness, Male-Female Friendship, Missing You, Murder, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Pining Michael, Protective Michael, Protectiveness, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Serial Killers, Time Skips, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, forty years later, obsessive Michael, reunited, slashers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29958516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athena_Midnight/pseuds/Athena_Midnight
Summary: Six-year-old Emma has experienced much neglect, with an uncaring mother and an absent father figure. Emma feels that there is something missing from her life in Haddonfield…a missing piece to complete the puzzle of her being. A sudden revelation then emerges in the most unusual way: Michael Myers, silent and dangerous, is that missing piece that she has been desperately searching for.The dark heart belonging to the man in the mask may find it does not mind the embrace of those tiny hands, innocent and kind. Those hands of his obsession, his exception…His angel.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Original Character(s), Michael Myers/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3





	1. Inception

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for choosing to read my story. I quickly want to give some useful tidbits of information before you begin to read this story. These are important things to keep in mind while traversing through the chapters, so please do read them before scrolling on!   
> -There will be spoilers (duh), so I recommend you watch the movies mentioned below first before reading to gain a better understanding of what is going on.  
> \- This story follows the events of Halloween (1978) and Halloween (2018). The other sequels do not play a part in this story! I apologise if this disappoints anyone, but I decided to do this to bypass the Curse of Thorn. Also, Michael and Laurie are not related in any way in this story!   
> \- I will stick to the original storyline as closely as possible, but there will be a few things that will change due to my original characters and/or my choices. Additionally, there may be some facts that are incorrect. If this is so, I encourage you to let me know in the comments. Unfortunately, there may be some mistakes I make regarding plot holes etc, so any feedback would be appreciated!  
> -Speaking of feedback, I encourage you to leave me any critical feedback in the comments! I always strive to become better with my writing, so I would love to hear any thoughts on my work to produce better chapters in the future!   
> Without further ado, sit back, relax and enjoy! <3

* * *

Late afternoon sunshine basked the small town of Haddonfield in a warm glow, bringing more vibrant energy to the townsfolk after a few cold and cloudy days. The neighbourly birds chirped with happiness and flew from tree to tree, enjoying the more tolerable autumn air against their fine feathers. People bustled about on the sidewalk, walking to the store down the main road or simply enjoying the lovely weather. It was purely a wonderful day outside in the fresh air.

In the unkempt front lawn of a small cottage house located on Fairfield Avenue, a little girl was crouched down. Her small form was partially hidden by the long stalks of grass, and if passers-by had noticed her, they would only really see a head of long golden curls. The child didn’t mind being half-buried between the tall grass though, as the long stalks gave her a sense of security from the rest of the world. Here, between the green vegetation, was where she felt most safe. Even if the vegetation changed from tall grass to flower bushes or trees, they all provided her with a familiar comfort.

In her hands, a handmade flower crown made from wild daisies and their stalks was near completion. With just a few more twists of the green stems, it would be finished. The girl excitedly bounced in her place on the ground, eager to wear the crown once it was finished. Making flower crowns from the flowers around her house and neighbourhood was one of her favourite things to do. It made her happy as well when some of the other children and adults complimented her on them when they rested upon her head. Her small fingers worked from well-practised memory as the last of the stems and flowers were twisted and joined to the other end of the crown. A smile graced the girl’s face as she looked down at her completed work with pride.

Before she could place the crown on her head, a door loudly banged open. The girl jumped in fright and unintentionally clutched the flower crown tightly in her hands. “Emma! Dinner time!” a voice called out, sounding a bit hoarse. “Dang child,” the person mumbled before retreating. The small girl, Emma, recognised the strained voice to be that of her mother.

She let out a breath she had been holding and looked down at her hands. To her dismay, the delicate crown had fallen apart due to her tight hold on it, and a few broken pieces fell onto the ground. Her lips pulled into a sad pout, and she let the crumpled crown fall to the floor after a moment. Unfortunately, these daisies had been the last ones she could find in her garden. She would have to look elsewhere tomorrow if she wanted to make another one.

Why did Mommy always have to ruin the peace and quiet? The girl sombrely stood from her place in the grass and walked towards her home. She made her way up the porch steps, wiping her sandy hands against her mismatched shorts and shirt, before entering the house. The yellow bulb in the entryway cast unstable flickers of light across Emma’s vision. She closed the door and found her mother sitting on the old recliner in the living room. The old box television was playing some movie. The changing scenes caused brighter and dimmer light to reflect into her mother’s angular face. A half-eaten box of TV dinner rested in her lap, and Emma could see an identical box sitting on the couch waiting for her.

Her feet padded across the carpet and she hoisted herself on the two-seater couch with a huff. Her mother made no indication of acknowledgement and she continued staring at the screen while Emma took a spoonful of food into her mouth. Her face morphed into a small scowl.

The food tasted bland as ever, as most cheap pre-packaged frozen food did, and the small bit of ketchup in one of the compartments did little to help the taste. The girl didn’t voice this aloud though, knowing this type of meal was a regular one at the house. Instead, she hoped to convince her mother to maybe buy something that she has heard other children eat at dinnertimes.

“Mommy, can we eat mac and cheese tomorrow?” Emma asked around a mouthful of squishy peas. She had heard of the other families making the pasta in the oven from scratch, and her mouth would often water when she thought of it. The girl didn’t know when last she had a freshly made meal.

The woman on the recliner glanced at the child and gave a scoff, her smile cynical. “No. That kind of food is expensive – you know we don’t earn much.” That was true, at least of what Emma knew. Her mother often complained about hardly meeting the bills each month, and they didn’t have much money to use for groceries, toiletries, and things like clothes. Even toys were hard to come by, and Emma only really got toys for Christmas or if she was lucky, her birthday. Her mom worked at the 24-hour convenience store at the gas station, and even with nightly shifts paying extra, she didn’t earn too much money.

At least they had a roof over their head and food to eat, even if it wasn’t the tastiest.

Emma’s mother turned to the child again after a beat and gave her a raised eyebrow. “Since when don’t you like TV dinners anymore? It keeps your belly full, doesn’t it?”

Her derisive tone caused Emma’s mood to drop even further. She should have known bringing up nice food wasn’t a good idea. “Yes, Mommy. It’s just…sometimes yucky,” Emma responded quietly, making a face at the lump of supposed meat when she prodded at it with her plastic fork. The brown lump jiggled…Emma was sure it wasn’t supposed to do that.

“Great, you’ve become fussy,” the woman replied, pushing her own box away and sighing. She picked up a cigarette nearby the ashtray beside her and lit it, inhaling greedily. She let out a breath of smoke, her eyes glued to the TV and no longer on her daughter. “Work starts soon. I’ll be leaving in a few minutes.”

The small girl’s shoulder slumped after hearing the inevitable news. It was nothing new though – her mother always worked the night shifts, sometimes day shifts on top of that, and left Emma alone at the house without any company. Even though her Mommy wasn’t like the other mommies who hugged their children or kissed their foreheads, she still missed her company when she wasn’t around. Even if her Mommy insulted her and was mean to her, Emma hated being left alone at home. A babysitter might have helped with the loneliness, but Emma’s mother couldn’t be bothered with hiring someone to watch her child when she believed her daughter could take care of herself.

After a while, Emma’s mother placed the used cigarette into the tray and stood up. Her skinny frame slumped forward as she dragged her feet to the main bedroom to get changed into her uniform. Emma put down her unfinished food and made a grab for the remote, switching the channel over to late-night cartoons. Popeye the Sailor was playing, and Emma perked up a bit at the familiar characters. Her attention was consumed by the show and a few minutes later she heard the rattling of car keys.

Her mother buttoned up the last of her shirt, not bothering to tuck it into her pants, and haphazardly tied her greasy hair up. “Turn that down, the neighbours will complain,” she ordered the child, even though the volume had remained the same since she had been sitting there.

Emma obediently turned the volume down and continued watching, glancing back to her mother every now and then. The woman met her glance and continued, “Don’t go to bed late.” Her concern was half-hearted, even Emma could tell, as the woman was more concerned with trying to appear more awake. Without a goodbye, she took her keys and left, locking the door behind her. After a couple of minutes, Emma heard their old car stutter to life before driving away.

Silence settled all around the six-year-old girl, and she quickly turned the volume up a little to avoid feeling the crushing grip of said silence. Distracted by the cartoon, Emma allowed herself to wander into the fictional world of Popeye until two episodes had ended. Reluctantly, she turned the TV off and took the dinner boxes to the kitchen and threw them in the bin.

She then began her nightly routine of running a bath for herself, using only cold water as she did not know how to properly control the hot water. She fetched her pyjamas and undressed in the bathroom, bracing herself for the cold. She climbed onto the wooden step stool and looked down into the bath before carefully stepping inside. Despite the many times she had done it before, she couldn’t help emitting a squeak as the icy water lapped against her skin. She shivered and tried washing herself as quickly as she could to avoid freezing too much. Once she was done, her whole form was shivering and she pulled the plug, freeing herself from the harsh conditions of the water. Her hands shook as they used a towel to dry herself off and to pull her pyjamas over her body, before burrowing themselves under her armpits for warmth.

Emma turned off the light and put her dirty clothes into the basket. Her mind wandered back to the flower crown that had broken in her hands and a soft sigh left her. If only she hadn’t have gotten a fright, maybe the crown would still be around. The child made her way to her small bedroom, familiar with the darkness around her as she manoeuvred, and lifted herself onto her bed with a bit of difficulty. Her arms managed to hoist her short form onto the bed, and she burrowed under the musty blanket. She mulled over her thoughts for a bit amongst the shadows.

Oh, how she wished her mother would read her bedtime stories or kiss her goodnight. Or maybe even tuck her in…but Emma knew that would never happen. Nobody truly loved the girl, and no one cared that she was suffering from neglect. Even if the neighbours thought her mother was unfriendly for never speaking to them or rarely leaving the house for social events, they didn’t know of the poor living conditions little Emma was enduring. The child herself never told anyone, not really comprehending that her life was not quite as nurturing as it should have been. She understood that she was less fortunate than the other children and families, but without having any friends to fully compare her life to, she simply became the wallflower of the town.

The silence returned with a fury and settled around Emma thickly, almost as if it were punishing her for asking her mother unwanted questions earlier. Desperately, the girl covered her blonde head with the pilled blanket in hopes to hide from the crushing silence. Thankfully, her non-verbal pleas were answered, and she soon succumbed to the sweet whisper of sleep.

Meanwhile, 150 miles away, the grounds outside of Smith’s Grove Sanitarium were in pandemonium. Patients were aimlessly wandering outside the facility in the pouring rain while a stolen car was speeding away. The driver set his sights on the road while his mind was set on his next destination…his hometown; Haddonfield.


	2. Through a Child's Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note:  
> -Here, Michael Myers escaped from the sanitarium four days before Halloween, and not the night before the holiday.
> 
> Feel free to leave any constructive criticism! Enjoy! :D

Dr Samuel Loomis, a middle-aged man with a balding head, pushed open the glass doors rather heatedly as he stepped outside of a building. His brown shoes clicked on the concrete walkway with speed as he made his way back to the parking lot. His mind was still raking over the events that took place last night in the pouring rain outside of Smith’s Grove Sanitarium.

All he had wanted to do was to transport his patient to Hardin County, so that they would be prepared for the trial in court that will take place in a few days’ time on October 31st. But neither he nor the nurse he had taken with him had expected his patient, Michael Myers, to lure them both out of the car and steal it to escape. He still remembered those black eyes connecting to his for barely a moment as the evil on two legs lunged into the car and sped away in the storming rain.

Behind Loomis, the door swung open as someone ran to catch up to him. They slowed alongside him and kept the same pace. “I’m not responsible, Sam,” Dr Wynn, a man in a grey suit with a bushy moustache, firmly said.

Loomis sighed with sarcasm, “Oh, no. Of course not.” Wynn was trying to continue their conversation about Michael’s escape from inside the building. Loomis would much rather get away from the annoying man and look for his patient.

“I told them how dangerous he was –” Dr Wynn continued, referring to the warnings he had given to local authorities as soon as Loomis alerted him to his patient’s successful escape plan last night.

“You couldn’t have! Roadblocks and an all-points bulletin board wouldn’t stop a five-year-old.”

The younger man looked away, now irritated with Loomis as he was with him. “Well, he was your patient, doctor. If precautions weren’t strong enough, you should have told somebody.”

Dr Loomis felt anger course through him, and he exploded. “I _told_ everybody! Nobody listened.” Of course nobody listened – everyone thought Loomis was over-exaggerating about the devil that he had been assigned to for fifteen years. If anyone knew Michael, it was Loomis, but other people simply thought his passionate sense of justice and urgency over his patient was extreme.

Dr Wynn continued in a whine-like tone of voice. “There’s nothing else I can do.”

“You can get back in there and get back on that telephone,” Loomis overrode the man’s uncooperative attitude. “Tell them exactly who walked out of here last night and tell them to search the neighbouring towns. Maybe he even went back to Haddonfield.” Loomis wasn’t sure if his patient would go back to his hometown, as Michael hadn’t given him any reason within the fifteen years to suggest he would go back there. He could have gone to any of the towns nearby or even further in an effort to flee Illinois. Loomis knew though that they needed to find him before Halloween...the holiday always seemed to cause Michael’s aura within the sanatarium to become even more deadly. He knew Halloween was a special day for Michael, and he had no doubt that his patient would murder somebody else on the holiday in four days’ time.

The two doctors had reached Loomis’ car and the bald man unlocked it, throwing his tan coat inside. “Sam, Haddonfield is 150 miles away from here. Now for God’s sake, he can’t drive a car!” Wynn argued with gusto, his moustache animatedly moving as he spoke.

“He was doing _very well_ last night! Maybe someone around here gave him lessons,” Loomis spat, up to his head with the nonsense spewing out the other doctor’s mouth. He was tired of trying to explain the seriousness of the situation to people who didn’t seem to care. He climbed into his car and looked up at Dr Wynn. “I’m going to each station around here to speak to those in charge. I’ll phone if I find anything.” With that, he shut the car door and started the vehicle, reversing out of the parking spot while the younger doctor stood there watching.

Samuel Loomis wouldn’t visit Haddonfield first. He found it almost impossible that Michael could drive that far, despite the possibility that someone could have given him under-the-table lessons. He would first go to the nearer towns and search for the evil bastard, before making his way to the quiet town of Haddonfield. He only hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

* * *

Pale eyelashes fluttered open as the morning light shone through the bedroom curtains. Emma rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up a little more from her sleepy haze. The quietness of the house reminded the girl that she was still alone, and that her mother wouldn’t be back from her night shift for a few more hours.

Trying to ignore the loneliness that had once again begun to ache in her chest, Emma hopped out of bed and went to the built-in wardrobe. She pulled the door open with a tug and grabbed the first item she saw – a white dress with lacy long sleeves. It was one of her prettier items of clothing, and the child felt like a princess when she wore it. She hoped the dress would work its magic and chase away her negative emotions as she changed into it, discarding her pyjamas in an untidy heap on the carpet. She didn’t grab a pair of shoes; she found them uncomfortable sometimes and preferred going barefoot wherever she went, and her mother never told her she was wrong for it.

Emma wanted to get out of the house today. There wasn’t much to do at home and she knew the ache in her chest would get worse if she sat inside all day. She wondered where she would go as she went into the kitchen and helped herself to a stale piece of bread. Her mouth worked around the dry food and she drank a bit of water to help it go down easier. When she set the plastic cup down, she had the perfect idea of what she would do.

Her spirits lifted as she skipped out of the front door, closing the unlocked door behind her and bounded down the porch steps. Of course, she could find more flowers to make another flower crown! The one she made yesterday had broken, and it upset her to a certain degree. Sitting idly in the grass and making the headpieces was very soothing for the six-year-old, and she knew that the activity would certainly make her happier. After she made the crown, she could wear it and walk around the streets to people-watch. It was interesting to watch what other people got up to in their daily lives, Emma had to admit.

Bare feet padded against the sidewalk as Emma strolled down the streets of Haddonfield, keeping her eye out for any wildflowers she could use. She passed a few houses that had beautifully well-kept flowers, but she refrained to avoid being scolded by the owners of the neatened gardens. Her best bet would be to find a park or a house where an abundance of unwanted flowers resided. People would probably thank the child for getting rid of the pesky weeds if they saw her.

Being so focused on looking around her than where she was going, Emma’s path was suddenly blocked as she walked into something. She jumped back a little and looked up to see a teenager with bushy brown hair. It was Annie Brackett, the daughter of the sheriff of Haddonfield.

The teen looked down at the child in her path and rolled her eyes. “Watch where you walk, girly,” she remarked, her glossed lips quirking up a little. Her hands repositioned the schoolbooks she held against her chest, signalling that she was on her way to the high school.

A blush settled into Emma’s cheeks at the embarrassment. She clasped her hands together in front as she sheepishly looked up at the teenager. “I’m sorry, Annie,” she apologised in a quiet voice.

Annie nodded her head at the apology before looking down in distaste at the girl’s bare feet. “Jeez, ever heard of fashion, Emma?” she muttered in a snarky tone, giving the girl a look before walking off with her head held high.

The little girl looked down at her toes and then back up at Annie’s retreating figure, feeling a bit dejected once again. She held back any comebacks though – she couldn’t stand up against a teenager and she didn’t have much inner strength to do so. Since she received similar treatment from her mother each day, she had learned to keep quiet and accept the mean comments. Who cared what Emma thought, anyway?

Emma exhaled a deep breath in a gloomy sigh and she sullenly glanced around, remembering her previous task of looking for flowers. Her eyes scanned the houses from her place beside the road, and her eyes lit up once she saw a bunch of white wildflowers in a garden. Her encounter with Annie quickly pushed to the back of her mind, Emma eagerly made her way to the garden across the empty street. A smile lit her face as she saw that there were quite a few flowers; plenty for her to make at least two or three headpieces.

She settled down in the grass, not paying too much attention to her surroundings, and started picking the flowers. Emma made certain to pick them at the base of the stem so that she could have enough of it to work with. Soon, she settled into a comfortable rhythm of picking flowers, twisting stems together, and repeating.

Occasionally, her attention shifted to the white house that the garden belonged to. It was the old, abandoned house on Lampkin Lane that many people spread rumours about. The children said that a bad man lived there once and hurt somebody, and if anyone tried going near the house, then the ‘Boogeyman’ would get them. That story didn’t deter little Emma. In fact, the girl wasn’t sure if she even believed the rumours. She had walked past this house plenty of times and nothing had ever happened to her. Even now, as she sat a few feet away from the porch steps, she merely gazed at the old house with awe. She even thought the house was pretty, as it was in much better shape than her own house despite the obvious signs of neglect.

Emma’s eyes were still fixated on the house, admiring the outside of it, when a movement in one of the downstairs windows caught her attention. Her gaze turned to one of the windows beside the front door, straining to see through the dirtied glass. The house was fairly dark inside, and the sunlight hindered the girl’s vision rather than aid her to peer inside from a distance. Emma’s hands halted their fretting over the flower crown, and she distractedly set the incomplete headpiece into the grass. She allowed herself to slowly rise to her feet as her attention remained fixed on that window.

After a moment, she moved, placing her feet on the first porch step as her childlike curiosity urged her forward. Emma inched further up the steps while they creaked from old age. She was closer to the window now, and she tried her best to peer through the glass from the top step of the porch. The blonde girl internally struggled with whether she should venture closer to the house or not, when an object the colour of white moved from the other side of the window.

Emma didn’t realise what she was looking at, at first, but she soon realised that a stark white face of a man was staring at her. Shadowed holes were in the place of a pair of eyes and brown hair had been slicked back out of the man’s face. The girl wondered if the person had painted their face, because she had never seen somebody with such a complexion before. The figure continued studying her from his place in the shadows of the house, not giving any gestures. In turn, Emma looked straight back at him as she took in the features she could see from her place on the edge of the porch.

Instead of feeling fearful of a strange man watching her from inside a supposed abandoned house, Emma felt her curiosity pique as her interest in the figure increased. She vaguely wondered if this was the Boogeyman that everyone had spoken of. If it was, Emma innocently thought that this man was not scary at all. He hadn’t even tried to scare her or try to shoo her away – he just stood there behind the window like a statue. He didn’t seem harmful, not to Emma anyway.

Acting on her friendly instincts, the girl held out a small hand and waved to the figure in greeting. It was better to say hello sooner than later, Emma thought. The man continued standing there for a few moments, not returning the gesture. The girl started to wonder if she had angered him in saying hello, when she saw his white head slowly cock to the side. A sweet giggle tumbled out of Emma’s mouth, as his gesture reminded her of the dogs in her street that would tilt their own heads when she would get their attention. The white face tilted even more at the girl’s giggle, which caused Emma to give another small laugh. It was as if the man was as curious about the girl as Emma was about him.

It didn’t look like he would come out of the house anytime soon to speak to the girl. The man’s head straightened up as his hidden gaze remained on the young girl’s form. His disinterest in coming out to the porch was perfect with Emma – she didn’t mind not speaking to him. Though she was very inquisitive over him now and wondered what he would say to her if he did step outside.

A smile remained on her lips and she gasped in excitement suddenly. Emma spun around, her white dress twirling around her, and she hurriedly bounded down the porch steps. She searched the garden before snatching up the almost complete flower crown from the ground. Her little legs hurried up the steps and her gaze returned at once to the window. The man was still standing there, though he was more hidden out of view. Emma could only see half of his white face now. She pursed her lips in thought. Was he maybe shy?

Her hands worked quickly to finish twisting the last of the flowers in the flower crown, joining the two ends together. The figure inside watched her interestedly as she captured his attention wholly. The girl’s smile returned once again, and she held out the flower crown to the man inside. He tilted his head, a much smaller tilt this time, but it caused Emma to giggle nonetheless. “It’s for you,” she said, speaking a little louder than normal in hopes that he could hear her behind the closed window. Carefully, she set the flower crown in front of her, a few feet away from the glass window.

The shape of the face made no indication of acknowledging or thanking her, and he shifted his gaze from the flower crown back to the little girl. Emma’s smile didn’t fade, not minding his apparent lack of manners. The girl thought it was best that she left though – she didn’t want to be a nuisance to this figure that she found somewhat adorable. And if this was his house, she didn’t want him to get angry at her staying on his property. Emma waved once again at the white-faced man inside and stepped off the porch. Feeling much happier after her encounter with the stranger, she skipped out of the garden and took off down the street. A wide smile lingered on her lips long after she turned the corner of Lampkin Lane, and she wondered when she would see him again.

A figure dressed in a blue mechanic suit stepped out onto the abandoned porch, eyes glued to the fading figure of the small girl happily bounding away. His sharp gaze only left her when she had turned the corner of the street, and then his white expressionless mask tilted down at the object the girl had gifted him. Slowly, he bent his tall form and grasped the fragile flower crown in his large hands. His fingers carefully brushed against the white flower petals and an unfamiliar emotion ran through the figure. Nobody had ever been so kind or friendly to Michael before.

His thoughts remained on the little girl, and the memory of her pure smile caused startling warmth to flow through his guarded heart.


	3. The Secret Stalker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are all enjoying the story so far! For the first time in the story, we will have Michael's perspective on events! I sincerely hope I wasn't overzealous in writing his character :)   
> Enjoy the chapter! ^-^

After spending a lot of the morning and afternoon wandering around the quaint neighbourhood, Emma decided to head back home. She didn’t really feel like going back to a bleary house and face the wrath of her mother, but she was hungry and desperate for the bathroom. She could only spend so many hours outdoors, where she felt most comfortable, before attending to her basic needs. It wasn’t like she could go buy any food either – she was very young and had no money on her person. Not that she would ever really be allowed pocket money, anyway.

Cars passed the small child as parents returned home from work and children returned from extra activities at school. Emma watched various people as she walked. Next year would be her first year in school, and even though she could attend pre-school at her age, she hadn’t been given the opportunity. In a way, the girl was glad she didn’t go to pre-school. Many of the children in Haddonfield had a mean streak about them and found Emma an easy target. She didn’t understand why they couldn’t just mind their business and leave her alone. Not all of them were mean thankfully, like Tommy Doyle. She had spoken to him a few times and he was nice to her.

The dishevelled one storey house greeted Emma as she arrived back home. She climbed up the porch and entered the house, the door creaking as she closed it behind her. A smell immediately hit the young girl’s nose – its distinctive musty scent causing her muscles to tense at once. Her mommy was smoking that plant again, and it always made her mood swings less predictable.

The pressing need to go to the bathroom miraculously disappeared and the rumbling in her stomach paused. Emma wanted to turn right around and leave the house that instant, but she forced herself to walk to the source of the smell instead. Her mother’s bedroom soon came into view and Emma could make out the woman’s figure sprawled on the double bed. She was laying on her stomach, breathing in on one side of a joint. A magazine was held in her other hand while she idly read the printed words. The small rolled-up stick in her mother’s hand only confirmed the familiar situation to Emma, and she found herself glued in the room doorway.

Her mother’s dazed eyes glanced her way once she noticed her child standing nearby. “Oh, you’re finally home?” she asked in a dull tone of voice, wisps of smoke billowing through her lips. “You didn’t lock the front door.”

How could she lock the door when she didn’t have access to any keys? Emma wanted to voice this aloud but didn’t dare try to antagonise her unstable parent in this state. “I’m sorry,” she apologised meekly, lowering her gaze to the scuffed-up carpet.

The forceful slamming of the magazine pages against the mattress made the small girl jump. “Stupid _fucking_ kid. Use some common-sense next time!” Emma’s mother spat out, her shrill voice raised. She took a glance at her daughter’s trembling frame and proceeded to laugh. “Shit. You’re useless, you know? Maybe if I’d had a son, he’d behave himself better.”

Another drag of the joint, another puff of smoke. The harsh words struck Emma’s heart and pushed her to the edge, and she felt her pained emotions tumbling out of her in thick tears and vigorous body shakes. Her mother’s form became a cursed, blurred image before her as the tears ran. She couldn’t take her mother’s treatment anymore for tonight.

The child spun on her heels and made a beeline for her bedroom at full sprint. The door slammed shut with a loud bang and without hesitation, Emma turned the lock. Tears spilled down soft cheeks as the girl allowed herself to cry it out. Her strength left her, and she collapsed on the floor. She didn’t even try and make it to her bed. Her small hands encircled herself in a fruitless attempt in seeking comfort. Sobs wracked through her body and she gave in to the sensation of drowning. Thoughts and emotion easily pulled the girl underneath the surface, and the darkened waters greeted her in a bittersweet embrace.

* * *

Stepping outside during the daylight hours was always risky business for Michael. The lighter surroundings from the sunlight made it more challenging to move around stealthily as not many darkened shadows were available for him to manoeuvre through. His white mask also stood out, since he couldn’t hide in crowds of dressed up people for Halloween yet. The holiday was only three days away, but the residents of Haddonfield would surely be suspicious if they saw a man wearing a mask so early.

Nevertheless, Michael Myers found himself willing to take those risks after encountering the small girl on the front porch of his old home. Her friendliness was the main thing that noticeably stuck out in the man’s mind. He was not used to receiving such kind treatment, especially from someone so young. In the sanatarium, the various patients and nurses alike had treated Michael like he was some sort of plague – some were disgusted by his mere presence and others even went out of their way to make his life miserable. Michael could almost feel the prickling of those countless injections in his arm that those nurses often gave him, with false smiles filled with fear and bitterness.

Their smiles could never compete with the one of that small child…hers was like a breath of fresh air; dazzling white and perfectly curved with innocence. When she smiled at him, her hazel orbs had lit up with pure emotion simmering deep within. Even her dress painted the image of a tiny angel cloaked in the pureness of white.

Michael’s keen observation had taken all of this in as she encountered him. Even her generosity towards him hadn’t gone unnoticed. In fact, Michael had found himself carefully pocketing the handmade flower crown she had gifted him within his mechanic coveralls. He mentally cursed within himself, feeling frustrated that a small girl of all things had somehow found a way past the high walls surrounding his dark heart.

The torn emotions toiled internally within him for hours as Michael discretely followed the girl on her adventure through the streets of Haddonfield. His hidden eyes had taken in everything she had done – from skipping barefooted on the sidewalk to relaxing underneath a tree in a small park. He had taken note of all of her little gestures and features while she happily enjoyed the outdoors in solitude. Through the skilled stalking, Michael could feel the faint echoes of obsession begin to taint his thoughts.

Why had she not been afraid of him like the other children? Why was she not accompanied by a parent at her young age? How old was she? What was her name?

These questions circled through Michael’s thought processes as his gaze intently rested on the girl’s blonde head as it disappeared through a front door of a house. The stalker eyed out the outside of the home in slight distaste. Even his old home was kept in better shape than this one by the owners, and that was saying something, considering his house had its fair share of broken floorboards and windows.

Michael waited for a beat and observed around him before safely stepping out from behind a large tree. More shadows were now available thanks to the evening drawing close, and he couldn’t help but revel in the comfort the darkened spaces gave him.

Silently, the man approached the house with a type of stately gait – a straightened posture with lithe, controlled movements. He crept along the side of the house and peered into the first window. Inside lay a kitchen, and a little further inwards Michael could make out a living room. The girl didn’t seem like she was in either room. He moved on and came past another window. This one sparked some interest within him. It was a bedroom, fairly small in size. Not much lay inside the room – a single bed with faded pink blankets lay against the wall with a lamp resting on a bedside table nearby. A built-in wardrobe resided on the other end of the room, and between the open bedroom door and cupboard doors, a doll and a teddy bear rested on the ground. Michael’s breathing stilled for a moment. Was this the girl’s bedroom?

His slender fingers grasped onto the window and slowly pulled. The unlocked window easily slid upwards, allowing a wide gap which the stalker could easily slip through. His hands tightened on the window ledge and he was about to climb inside quietly, when he heard voices. He paused, listening for any movement inside and outside the house. A sudden noise of paper caused him to slip away from the window and back into the shadow of the roof’s overhang. He slowly made his way to the next window, where he was sure the sound was coming from. He peeked inside the closed window of the next room and watched with sharp eyes.

Inside, a skinny woman was laying on a bed. Her drooping facial features, dirty clothes and birds’ nest of hair revealed to Michael that the woman didn’t care about her appearance and that she barely took in enough nutrients to nourish her body. The small object in her hand was enough to cause Michael to pull his large kitchen knife out of his pocket in slight agitation. Michael was familiar with the sight of a rolled-up joint – memories of his obnoxious older sister Judith smoking the same drug with her boyfriend caused a sense of loathing to stir inside himself, now directed towards this woman. Something else in the room caught his attention, and his watchful gaze settled on the form of the small girl he had been stalking all day. She was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, looking visibly tense in her posture.

The woman suddenly shouted, causing Michael to turn his eyes away from the girl for a moment. “Stupid _fucking_ kid. Use some common-sense next time!” Her shrill voice and harsh words caused the small child to shake uncontrollably in the doorway. Michael’s breathing through the latex mask became more audible as he breathed heavier. The woman continued insulting the girl, “Shit. You’re useless, you know? Maybe if I’d had a son, he’d behave himself better.”

The grip on the kitchen knife tightened considerably at hearing the emotional abuse of this woman, who seemed to be the little girl’s mother. But what kind of mother would act this way towards their own offspring? His malicious thoughts halted though when he looked back to the small child. Her body was shaking even more so now, being at the brunt of the abuse, and thick tears were cascading down her cheeks. Without a word, she turned and ran from the room at high speed, slamming the other bedroom door shut. From the window he had opened a few feet away, Michael could hear heavy sobs emanating.

Michael hadn’t noticed his crushing grip on his weapon until the handle produced faint throbs of pain through his palm. His hold loosened slightly as his eyes remained fixed on the pathetic woman finishing her joint in the bedroom. Experiencing just how hurt the little girl had become from her mother’s abuse caused feelings of hostility to flow through Michael. The dark force inside him pulsated in his core, willing him to plunge his large blade into the base of this woman’s skull. But Michael resisted; it was too soon to make any brash decisions. He first wanted to observe to learn everything he could before he decided to kill anyone. And besides, he needed to keep his kill count minimal before his favourite holiday if he wanted to lay low from authorities.

With reluctance, the stalker simply watched from the shadows as the woman got up from the bed and began changing into a work uniform. Her bare skin did nothing but cause more venomous thoughts and ideas to cycle through Michael’s brain. Soon, she had finished and left the room. Michael’s ears strained to listen for the closing of the front door, and he eyed the side of the house leading to the front garden. He caught a glimpse of her as she stepped into the car and drove away rather haphazardly.

The sobbing from the girl’s bedroom had now turned into softer cries. The sounds caused Michael’s darker emotions to soften, and his gaze rested in the direction of the open window. The dark force inside of him quietened and he felt the sudden and urgent need to look at the young girl once again. Her whimpers spurred him into action, and he turned away from the window with knife in hand. He glided along the house in that calculated yet graceful movement of his, while his attention focused on the back door.

The little one was now vulnerable. Michael would make his move.


	4. Through a Killer's Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having fun reading the chapters? :) Leave a comment if you wish to give me any feedback!  
> This chapter is an important one...the odd relationship Emma has with Michael will be brought more into the spotlight. I wanted to showcase Michael's confliction over this girl who he has started to obsess over. Also a bit more fluff...this time from Mikey boi! <3  
> Enjoy! :D

After a long time of laying on the floor, Emma came back to her senses. The residual salty streaks down her cheeks were prominent, and the girl rubbed them away. The recollection of her mother’s harsh words still caused pain to blossom within her chest, but at least now she was able to breathe a little easier.

With a small sigh, she peeled away from the carpet floor and got to her feet. Her white dress swayed with the movement, and Emma looked down at it. She had forgotten she was still wearing the beautiful dress, and she half wished a fairy godmother would swoop down and save her from the wrath of her mother. Perhaps then, she would finally be happy.

Goosebumps raised along Emma’s skin and a shiver ran through her. Since when did it become so cold in her room? She hadn’t noticed the chilly breeze in her distraught state earlier, but when she felt the rush of wind, she realised her body was chilled. She looked around when she heard a flutter of fabric – it was her curtains ruffling from the evening breeze coming in through the wide-open window. She frowned at this. She didn’t remember opening her window before she left the house this morning. The blonde girl approached the window and peered through the darkness, trying to see if there was anything else unusual. But only the green hedge separating her house from the neighbours a few feet away stared back at her. Emma pouted a little and tried lifting her arms to close the window. Her attempt was futile though, as she was far too short to reach the windowpane. Perhaps she could shift her bedside table to stand on it to gain height? The girl quickly ignored that idea though; she didn’t want to potentially slip off the table and she wasn’t really in a mood to care if the window was open, anyway.

So instead, Emma turned around and headed for her door. She unlocked it and opened it, pausing to listen out for any sounds of her mother. The house was silent, save for the refrigerator’s buzzing from the kitchen. It seemed like her mother had already left to go to work. Relief washed over Emma, and she left the confines of her bedroom. The darkness throughout the house was quite unusual though, Emma quietly thought. Her mother often left that flickering hallway lightbulb on whenever she went to work. But now, none of the lights were on and the shadows within the house seemed to stretch out towards the girl, only broken up slightly by the streetlight shining through the living room window.

The girl hurried to the bathroom, turning the light on before closing the door behind her. She couldn’t help the fear that rose inside her from the darkness, especially since she was so upset not so long ago. She didn’t care for the darkness usually, but tonight, the shadows seemed way more intimidating for a strange reason Emma did not yet know.

She relieved herself, glad to finally do so after a long day of being out and about. Once she was done, she pulled her dress down and washed her hands, standing on her tippy toes to be able to close the tap. Just before she left the bathroom, a noise sounded somewhere outside the door. Emma paused with her hand on the doorknob, feeling a bit afraid once again. What was that? It wasn’t a loud noise; rather, it was soft and low sounding…like some sort of creak. The girl shook her head, chalking it up to her hearing things. She left the bathroom but kept the light on and walked straight through the dark shadows to immediately turn on the hallway light.

Feeling less afraid now, Emma decided to tend to her growing hunger. It seemed like her mother didn’t prepare anything for her tonight, so either bread or something in the fridge would have to do. With pursed lips, the child looked through the fridge as much as she could from her short height, finally settling on a mini container of yoghurt. She grabbed a teaspoon from the drawer before walking to the living room, preparing to settle on the couch and watch cartoons. The girl soon stopped in her tracks though. The bathroom, which was visible from the living room, was no longer lit by the light she had left on. Emma was very confused by this point. She certainly remembered leaving the light on…so why had it turned itself off?

She left the teaspoon and sealed yoghurt balancing on the backrest of the couch, and warily approached the bathroom. Emma squinted, trying to make out any distinguishable shapes within the darkened room. The girl halted in her place once again when she heard an object fall behind her. She spun around quickly, frightened by the noise and she searched for the source until her eyes settled on the shape of her yoghurt container on the floor. It must have fallen, but how? Emma had even made sure it was balanced stably on the backrest so that it wouldn’t fall. With furrowed brow, she went over and crouched down, retrieving the container. Thankfully, it hadn’t opened from the force of gravity. She stood up and took a small step away from the couch.

And that is when she felt her back press against something.

Her eye caught sight of a tall, dark figure before she yelped in fright and jumped away. Her body jerked around to face the figure and she pressed herself into the couch, still clutching the yoghurt container in her hands. Her hazel eyes widened in surprise. She recognised the person before her – it was the head-tilting man from the abandoned house she had interacted with!

Emma instantly recognised the same white face that was staring down at her, though now that he was closer, she realised it wasn’t face paint the man was wearing, but a white latex mask. Additionally, it seemed that the brown hair atop the mask wasn’t the man’s real hair either, and was attached to the mask. The dark colour of his mechanic coveralls really blended in with the shadows and darkness surrounding him, though he was more visible from the flickering hallway light. His white mask was the most prominent, as well as the two dark eyeholes that were staring straight at Emma. The child had to strain her neck in order to look up at him – he was much taller than she had imagined him to be. Because of her short height, her head only reached the top of his thighs!

The man noticed the girl’s eyes moving around as she took him in and remained silent in his straight stance before her. Emma relaxed slightly and let out a breath, along with a small chuckle, “You scared me!” The girl paused before continuing in a more cheerful voice. “It’s nice to see you again, though.” A small smile beamed up at the man towering over her, though the only reaction the man gave was the continued muffled breathing through the mask. Emma broke eye contact with him to place her yoghurt back on the couch backrest beside her, before looking back at him. The figure remained still as a statue, and the blonde girl would have been concerned if it weren’t for his audible breathing.

Feeling a little playful from the odd occurrence, Emma found herself folding her arms and sticking her hip out a little. Her sweet smile turned slightly mischievous as she remembered the creaking sound she had heard, the bathroom light turning off and the container falling. “Was it you that turned off the light and knocked my yoghurt to the floor?” she asked him, her tone of voice indicating that she was more enlivened by the events than scared anymore.

The man didn’t respond for a long moment and silently continued staring at the six-year-old. However, after a while, the white mask slowly moved in a tiny nod. At the gesture, Emma giggled as she found it to be adorable. His lack of words didn’t bother Emma too much; she guessed he was shy when talking to people. His mask could also point towards him being shy…perhaps he didn’t want other people seeing what he looked like. The girl didn’t know this for sure, but the guess was fine with her for now. Though, she was learning more about him in each passing second…he certainly seemed to like to scare people!

Even though Emma enjoyed encountering this man, she had to admit it was strange that he was in her house. She didn’t know much about the danger when talking to strangers, as everyone knew each other in Haddonfield. Her mother also didn’t really care much about Emma’s safety, so the girl didn’t quite know if it was normal for people to come whenever they wanted into someone’s house. She decided to voice this small concern to the man before her. “How did you get in?” she asked him, looking into those shadowed eyeholes expectantly. He hesitated once again with any movements, before slowly turning his head to pointedly look at something. Blonde locks of hair swayed as the girl followed the man’s line of sight to settle on the back door of the house, between the bedrooms and living room. Ah, so that’s how.

“I see,” she said, as she felt his gaze rest back on her. “Mommy never locks that door. She doesn’t care about locking the windows, as well.”

Unknown to Emma, the mention of her mother caused a spark of anger to course through the figure. In response to the emotion, his fist tightened. Emma caught the faint glint of something beside the man then, and she looked at it. He was holding something in his large right hand that she hadn’t even noticed before. It was a kitchen knife, a very big one at that. The flickering light caused the glinting to become more visible in the slight movements of the man’s fist. The blade looked deadly sharp. Emma didn’t quite know how to feel about the knife. She had seen a few children in Haddonfield running around with scissors in their hands when playing in the playground, but she doesn’t remember anyone ever walking around with a big knife. Something deep within her produced a faint warning in her mind, but her good-natured spirit pushed that warning away.

“We have a knife like that too,” Emma decided to mention. The man’s shoulders tensed slightly underneath the clothing, and his tightened fist relaxed over the knife handle. The child allowed her friendliness for the man to take over. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” She gestured with her hand for him to follow, and she brushed past him to head into the kitchen. The mask followed her movements and the towering figure trailed after her, taking slow and calculated steps.

Emma took note of his unusual way of walking but said nothing of it. She turned the kitchen light on and opened a drawer, rummaging around in it. The man stood nearby, ever watchful of the small girl before him who seemed to show no fear in his presence. Emma soon found what she was looking for, and pulled out a similar looking kitchen knife with difficulty. She turned and held the blade up for the figure to look at it. “See? It’s like yours,” she said, the childlike lilt in her voice evident. “It’s a bit heavy,” Emma commented after a moment, feeling her small arms burn from holding the heavy steel up. She carefully set the knife back in the drawer and dramatically hung her arms with relief.

The white mask continued looking fixedly at her. He seemed to take up the entire space of the kitchen, even though he merely stood in the middle of it. Emma almost wished to see that cute characteristic head tilt of his, but the man in the mask simply bored his gaze deeply into her. The girl became a bit more serious at his lack of communication as part of her worried she was becoming a nuisance to him. She tried not to let her self-conscious thoughts affect her and opened the fridge door wide. “Would you like something to eat? I was about to eat dinner,” Emma offered kindly, giving the man a shy smile.

Her sudden change in behaviour was quickly observed, and the man tensed at the kindness shown towards him once again. Emma began searching through the fridge shelves she could reach, searching for anything suitable for a grown adult to eat. “Mm, we don’t have much. But you can have my yoghurt if you want? It was the last one left. Or you could have some bread, or –”

The girl soon forgot what she was about to say when she felt something sharp against her throat. Within an instant, the man had moved silently and stealthily to stand right behind Emma. His towering frame was slightly bent over her, and the head of his mask almost touched the frame of the open fridge with how much he had to tilt his face downwards. His right hand was poised in the air, and the knife in his hold was lightly pressing against the small child’s throat. Emma could feel just how huge the blade was as the sharp edge was pressed against her skin.

Her breath caught in her throat at the unexpected action, and she didn’t dare move her head to look into those dark eyeholes. That same warning that she had pushed aside earlier came back once again, urging the girl to flee. She didn’t listen to it. Instead, she allowed herself to feel confused. Did she say something to anger the man? She hadn’t meant to – she just wanted to offer him something to eat. It was the polite thing to do, right?

Gingerly, Emma tried talking around the blade dangerously pressing near her windpipe. “You don’t have to eat anything…I just thought you might be hungry…” The knife against her throat didn’t waver, and the figure kept a controlled but light pressure against the girl. Thankfully, it wasn’t enough to cut skin. The mask above her emitted slightly heavier breaths, and the figure’s stillness was enough to cause Emma to feel that familiar despair.

She didn’t mean to upset him….that was the last thing she wanted. Was he angry with her? Was he going to hurt her because he didn’t care about her, like Mommy?

Emma’s eyes shut tightly, and she whimpered out quietly, “I’m sorry if I’m a bother.”

The body pressing against her became completely rigid. Even the hand holding the knife tightened at the girl’s words. The puffs of air from within the mask paused, before resuming at a quieter volume. Emma could feel those sharp eyes piercing into her from above, as if they were trying to peer deeply enough to inspect her soul. Then, the girl felt something else – a hand, the man’s left hand, had begun running through Emma’s blonde curls. The action was hesitant, due to the strain in those slender fingers. But it was also incredibly gentle…gentler than Emma had ever had the pleasure in experiencing. She had never been caressed like this before, and the girl found her worries about the knife soon fading away. She relaxed in the man’s hold, a light smile on her lips as he continued brushing through her hair, gaining confidence enough to stretch his fingers wider to weave through more of the strands.

She soon felt those eyes studying her face again, which was now revealing her relaxation. The hand paused, and slowly untangled from her hair and moved away. Emma’s eyes opened when she felt the blade also retreat from her throat. She felt the presence behind her step back, and she turned around a bit unsurely while the fridge door closed behind her with a soft thud. The mask was staring at her, and the knife hung once again by his side. Emma’s eyes searched for his behind those shadows, and she thought she caught a quick glimpse of blue irises. The girl felt a warmth spread in her chest at the mercy shown by the man before her. None of those who hurt her feelings had been merciful to little Emma before.

Emma didn’t realise that she had passed a test – a very important one to the male before her eyes.

“Thank you,” the girl quietly said, looking into that mask with such emotion. The man straightened his posture slightly after witnessing those emotions simmering within the girl’s wide eyes. He brought his armed hand up and placed the knife into one of his deep pockets. Emma watched quietly while he turned his head around to gaze at one of the kitchen counters. He gave the girl a quick glance before striding over to the counter.

Emma’s heartfelt emotions soon made space for amusement as she watched the shape of a man grasp onto the bread packet. He carefully opened the packet and took out two slices of bread, paused for a second, and then grabbed two more slices. Emma felt a smile fall upon her lips. Well, she did offer him bread, after all. He must be really hungry. She watched the back of him as he cautiously lifted the bottom of his mask to reveal his mouth and jaw. Emma didn’t get a glimpse of his face at all; the man had made sure to skilfully block the view she tried to get of him. Her curiosity was running ever high, but she decided to let him eat however he wanted. As long as he was happy and wasn’t upset with her, then she was happy.

Not even a minute passed before the mask was adjusted back over the man’s jaw again. The bread had been devoured with such speed that confirmed to Emma that he was indeed quite hungry. A small giggle tumbled out of the blonde girl’s mouth, causing the mask to turn to her once again. “I’m glad you enjoyed that,” she told him, smiling with pure elation. The girl then dared to offer something to the man, the goodness inside of her couldn’t resist. “If you ever get hungry again, you can always eat here if you want. We don’t have much, but I don’t want your tummy to get sore. I know what that’s like,” Emma told him, grasping her hands in front of her and swinging them around a little.

Emma didn’t perceive the effect her kindness had on the tall figure before her. The man remained still in his gazing over the child, and then, he approached her. She kept eye contact and tilted her head further up as he came close. His head, in turn, pointed downwards at her small frame. His hand raised slowly, unmistakably, to tenderly rest upon Emma’s golden head of hair. Another smile lit up the girl’s face from this, and the hand patted her head once, twice, before falling back to his side.

Both could feel something right then in that moment. The beginning of a connection between their two beings had begun to form: undeniable. And the feeling of warmth swirled around both beating hearts.

Emma watched the man turn around and walk away, out of the kitchen and into the living room. She followed him, like a lost puppy, and only paused when he reached the back door. He turned his head to give her one last look, almost endearing despite the lack of expression of the mask, before opening the door. Emma watched through the doorway as the shape of the man was swallowed by the shadows, and disappeared from her view.


	5. Detecting Prey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the love you have shown on my story so far! :) I appreciate it so much!
> 
> In this chapter, we will be introduced to a familiar teenage girl! Also, Michael and Emma experience another bonding moment :D I hope you enjoy!

Most of Emma’s thoughts the rest of the night had been centred on the figure in a white mask. His actions towards her kept replaying in her mind, even as she lay in bed trying to sleep. Emma could still feel the ghost of the man’s blade lightly pressing against her throat. She didn’t really know why he had done that. Was it some type of warning? Or was it something greater than the girl’s childlike mind could comprehend?

He had seemed rather tense in those moments. Emma wondered why that was so.

His stock still exterior had soon succumbed to something deeper within, albeit hesitantly. That calm aggression had given way as soon as the blonde had apologised, afraid that she was annoying the man in some way. His next acts had surprised her then – his caressing through the girl’s hair and those gentle head pats had proved that something within his perspective had changed. And Emma had really enjoyed that…she felt comforted by those apparent loving gestures. Those gestures had revealed to Emma that, despite what she had feared, she was not a bother to the man.

Emma even struggled to think of anything else the next morning. Various trees and houses passed her during her walk of the day, but instead of studying their beauty as she always did, she found herself disregarding them completely. She was entirely consumed by thoughts of that man, who had been the first to show her such gentleness and comfort. He was at the centre of her mind, and internally, Emma had classified him as her friend.

“Emma!” A voice broke through the girl’s peaceful thoughts, and she turned her head to find who had called her.

The figure of a boy came running towards her, his sandy blonde hair swaying with his movement. He panted as he stopped before her – it seemed like he had been running for quite a while. “Hi, Tommy,” Emma greeted the youngest member of the Doyle’s with a smile. The girl didn’t mind Tommy; he was never mean to her or given her any reason for dislike. But she wouldn’t technically classify him as a friend, as the boy didn’t hang out with her much in his spare time.

Tommy adjusted his school books in his hands as he looked the girl over. “You walking about again? It might rain later, you know,” he warned her, pointing to the cloudy skies above them.

The girl looked upwards at the sky, following Tommy’s prompt. She had realised before she had left the house that there was a possibility of rain, but she hadn’t decided to bring any jacket with her. She did wear warmer choices of clothing though; consisting of a pale-yellow long-sleeved sweater that ended just above her knees, thick white stockings and scuffed buckled shoes. Emma supposed that a dress would look better than the sweater with what she was wearing, but she didn’t really know much about matching items of clothing.

She pushed the too-long sleeves of the sweater up to her elbows. “It’s okay. I can go home if it rains,” she reassured Tommy as they began walking together. The boy nodded at this and they moved in silence for a bit, and Emma followed Tommy’s lead while keeping close to him. She didn’t mind walking with him until he got close enough to school.

Soon enough, something else caught Tommy’s attention. He took off eagerly towards a teenager that was about to cross the road. Emma huffed, slightly miffed that he easily left her behind, and she ran to try and catch up with him. Her short legs proved her to be a bit slower than the older boy though, and she only caught up when Tommy and the girl had greeted one another.

Emma looked at the teenager Tommy was speaking to. Her shoulder-length blonde hair framed her face neatly. Her cardigan, green knit shirt, floral skirt and stockings proved that she too had been conscious of the colder weather today. It took Emma a beat to recognise the face she was staring at, as she didn’t come across this teenager quite often. It was Laurie Strode, well known for babysitting the younger children in Haddonfield. Emma supposed she would know her better if her mother ever decided to hire a babysitter. Laurie was also not one of the mean teenagers and preferred to keep a level head as opposed to her peers.

Laurie recognised the small girl at the same time and gave her a smile. “Hello, Emma.”

Emma mumbled a greeting, feeling shier in the older girl’s presence than she did in Tommy’s. She allowed the boy to be between both her and Laurie, feeling more comfortable to have him as a barrier, as the trio walked towards the schools. It didn’t take long for Tommy to speak, as he seemed to become animated when with Laurie.

“You still coming over on Halloween night?” he asked the teen, eagerly looking up at her.

Laurie nodded. “Same time, same place.”

Words then tumbled out of Tommy’s mouth, as his excitement over Halloween night was made evident. “Can we make jack-o-lanterns? And watch the monster movies? Will you read to me? Can we make popcorn?”

“Sure, sure, sure,” Laurie chuckled, amused at the boy’s antics. Emma giggled as well and watched with a twinkle in her eyes as the teen patted the boy’s head affectionately. The sight of the familiar head pat caused the six-year-old’s happiness to swell.

As the three traversed through the street, Laurie lightly tugged Tommy along, urging him to hurry up so that he wouldn’t be late for school. At the mention of school, Tommy gave the teen a questioning glance. “How come you’re walking to school this way?” From beside him, Emma nodded, also wanting to know. She knew Haddonfield’s streets better than others realised from her times wandering around, so she knew they were taking the longer route to get to the middle and high schools. Emma kept quiet and listened as the two talked.

“My dad asked me to,” Laurie said.

“Why?”

“I have to drop off a key.”

“Why?”

At the boy’s constant questioning, Emma let out a laugh. Laurie gave her a smile over Tommy’s head, also entertained by the boy’s silliness. She then gave Tommy a wide-eyed, playful look. “Because he’s gonna sell a house.”

Tommy paused, then his voice dropped a little. “Why?”

The teenager rolled her eyes at him. “Because that’s his job!”

“Where?”

“The Myers’ house,” Laurie stated calmly, looking up at something that they were quickly approaching.

Tommy gasped a bit and eyed the teenager in shock. “The Myers’ house?!” he repeated. The familiar words caused Emma to look forwards, and she realised that they had approached said house. It was the same house that she had visited yesterday, where she had made the flower crown and had first met the man in the mask. Of course, the _Myers’ house_ , that’s what it was called. She did not remember the exact words of the house that those around town had nicknamed when she had been here yesterday, but now she recalled it thanks to Laurie. Her eyes fell upon the window beside the front door of the house, and she gave a gentle smile.

Tommy, oblivious to Emma for the moment, pulled on Laurie’s arm to make her halt in her place. She gave him a look, and he anxiously explained his actions. “You’re not supposed to go up there,” he said, pointing to the house as he did so.

“Yes, I am,” Laurie replied a little smugly, jangling a key in front of the boy. She proceeded to walk towards the house and climbed the porch steps without hesitation.

Emma was impressed by her courage. Because Emma didn’t really believe the nasty rumours surrounding the house, she had no problem walking near the house whenever she wanted. Most people were so scared to approach the house, from what she had seen. But Laurie didn’t seem to be bothered by the rumours and wasn’t scared one bit.

The small girl quietly followed the teenager, eager to approach the house once again in hopes of seeing that face in the window. She wondered if the man was home, and she felt hopeful that he was. Tommy’s attention turned back to the girl who had left his side, and his mouth hung open. “Are you crazy, Emma? That’s a spook house!”

Emma threw a glance over her shoulder at the scared boy and felt the sudden urge to defend her new friend’s home. “It’s not! It’s a pretty house.” She turned back to the house and heard Tommy scoff unbelievably at her words.

Laurie caught the boy before he could make any potentially snarky comment. “Oh Tommy, give it a rest, will you? Just watch.” The teenager then crouched and stuck the house key with the attached Strode Realty key card underneath the old front doormat. Emma had climbed the stairs and had stepped onto the porch, and she watched Laurie out the corner of her eye as she scanned the right window. Emma scoured the inside of the house almost desperately, wishing to feel that wonderful sense of comfort from her tall friend. To her disappointment, she could see nothing behind the dusty panels of glass.

With a satisfied hum, Laurie stood up and retreated off the porch. She beckoned for Emma to come along, and the small girl reluctantly followed after her with a small sigh. Her eyes lingered around the windows and door, even travelled to the upper floor windows, as both girls joined Tommy back on the sidewalk. Laurie quirked an eyebrow at the little girl’s behaviour but decided not to comment on that longing look on her face. None of them noticed the dark shadow within the house that was staring at them from the shadowed front door.

Tommy looked at Laurie and Emma as if both were crazy to dare and venture close to the house. “Lonnie Elamb said _never_ to go up there. Lonnie Elamb said that’s a haunted house. He said awful stuff happened there once!” He tried to make both of them see that he wasn’t acting scared for no good reason. Emma wanted to tell him just how wrong he was…she wanted to say that there was a nice man that lived there, who was really adorable in certain things he did and who gave the best caresses and head pats ever…

But…would her friend even want her to do that? If he were shy, would he want people to know his business? If there was one thing her mother had taught her, it was to never let anyone know their personal business, lest she wished for the townsfolk to think of her as a despicable child. Emma was grateful that her masked friend didn’t think she was despicable…at least yet, anyway. But she had a large fear then that he may very well despise her if she blabbered about him to anyone and everyone. She definitely didn’t want that. Even though she naturally wanted to come to the defence of her friend and his home, she rather let her fear swallow unspoken words.

Laurie brushed aside Tommy’s worry and spun him around, steering him back towards their destination. “Lonnie Elamb probably won’t get out of the sixth grade,” she wryly commented. She then turned back to look at Emma, who hadn’t moved from the sidewalk. “We gotta get to school now, Emma. Stay safe, okay?” she wished the child well, giving her another kind smile.

Emma nodded and gave her a wave, and then one to Tommy as he said goodbye. She watched in her spot as Tommy broke away from Laurie then, and the two went their separate paths to the different schools. The small girl’s attention lingered on Laurie, as she faintly heard her begin singing a song softly to herself. Emma pushed the long sleeves covering her hands up once again to bunch around her elbows, while wondering what she was going to do now.

Thankfully, the cure for her boredom was nearby. A muffled breathing became audible amidst the faint singing of Laurie and the rustling of the trees in the light breeze. Emma turned around to see a tall figure standing behind her on the sidewalk, his latex mask looking over the small child towards the fading figure of Laurie Strode.

Emma squeaked happily and faced her friend, bouncing on her heels excitedly. “Hi! I didn’t think you were home.” The mask broke away from Laurie to gaze down at the little girl who was already looking in those eyeholes with elation. He looked at her for a bit, and Emma’s spirits soared when a hand raised to lightly rub her one shoulder. The motion seemed to be slightly awkward for him at first. The little smile widened on Emma’s face at the sign of affection, and his hidden eyes studied her reaction intently. The mask soon raised once again to look over Emma’s form while his thumb continued to rub small, gentle circles on her shoulder.

Curious about his stare, Emma turned to see what he was so interested in. She was just in time to catch a glimpse of Laurie’s figure in the distance before she turned a corner towards the high school. The girl looked back at the mask and decided to indulge in his interest in the teenager. “That’s Laurie Strode. She babysits for some of the children,” she told her friend, now finding herself to be the focal point of his attention. “She said her daddy is going to sell your house…does that mean you won’t have a home anymore?”

The concern in the child’s voice was obvious, and the thumb against her shoulder paused. His hand fell away from Emma and he slowly shook his head, answering ‘no’ to her question. Emma sighed with relief and gave him another one of her sweet grins. “That’s good!” The breathing from within the mask continued echoing out, and the girl found the sounds to be rather soothing.

To Emma’s surprise, the figure began moving away from her in the direction Laurie was headed. The girl furrowed her brows as the man moved around her and walked away, his focus apparently still on the teenager that had been brave enough to approach the front door when he had been right there. “Hey!” Emma cried out, feeling a bit dejected at her friend’s behaviour. “Can’t we play together?” The figure stopped in his tracks and glanced back at the small girl. He gave a small shake of his head, and Emma felt her happiness from before completely vanish.

She wanted to be with him, to spend time with him…and now he wanted to go to spend time with another person? It wasn’t fair, not to Emma. Not after feeling so special from his actions and their budding friendship. The girl soon felt her eyes sting as hot tears filled her vision. A small sob broke out of her, catching the man’s full attention once again. “I-I wanna be w-with you,” Emma stuttered, pouting sadly as her tears began rolling down her cheeks. She so badly wanted a friend who she could grow close to, and now that she finally found one, she desperately didn’t want to let him go.

The figure seemed to tense up completely at seeing the girl cry. He quickly glanced around, possibly to see if anyone had heard Emma’s cries. He didn’t wait long before he approached her again, looking down at her as she continued sobbing. Emma had heard the breathing become louder due to the proximity and she looked up to his masked face with big, glassy eyes. The tall figure became even stiffer at seeing the puppy dog look the little one was giving him; silently pleading for him not to abandon her. It seemed he didn’t know what to do as he continued towering over her, simply staring. But then, he hesitantly crouched on his haunches in front of the girl, becoming more level with her but still taller. He raised his hand in the air, pausing, and then carefully swiped a finger underneath one of Emma’s eyes. Her sobs quietened down, and she stared back into the white mask as his other index finger wiped away the tears underneath her other eye.

Emma’s mouth hung open a little at the unexpected gesture…this was another first for her. Her heart fluttered inside her chest and she swallowed the lump her tears had caused down her throat. Shadowed eyeholes connected to her hazel orbs and his hand lingered about her face for a moment. The mask tilted slowly to the side as he examined her reaction before the figure straightened his body to stand tall and upright once again. Speechless, Emma could only stare as the masked man in mechanic coveralls turned his body, took a few steps, and then faintly motioned with his hand for the girl to follow.

The mood within Emma brightened once again, and she let out a very pleasant laugh despite the few tears stuck in the corners of her eyes. Her little legs rushed to her waiting friend and she clutched a small fist to the side of his leg, holding tightly onto the fabric of his coveralls. Acting on her happiness, the girl even nuzzled the man’s leg with her cheek, as if thanking him.

The mask tilted down at Emma as she snuggled into him, and a rather large sigh puffed out. One minute the child was bawling her eyes out, and the next, she was completely happy. The man had seemed reluctant to take Emma with him to follow Laurie – but now, he couldn’t just leave the girl on her own. Especially after she had given him those puppy dog eyes and those thick tears.

Resigned to the situation, the figure began heading down the sidewalk with his mind fixated on the Strode teenager, while little Emma stuck by his side with her grip settling to cling onto the sleeve of his jumpsuit.


End file.
